Dreamin' of You
by Loy
Summary: Just a dream I had about Spike and the episode of Pierrot Le Fou


            Mad, crazed laughter rang out all around us. The sound was mirthless, sent icy fingertips tripping down my back, and without an origin I could pinpoint. It mingled with the cacophony of carnival music and rides blaring out from all over, crescendoed and then rose above all other sounds in a dizzying symphony that had my heart pounding in my throat. My gun weighed heavily in my hand as I brought it up, turning my head sharply to look over at my ally. His mismatched eyes also darted about, desperate for any visual of the corpulent beast that hunted us. But it was hard to tell if the bouncing figures popping in and out of sight were the madman after our blood or just the animated creatures populating the theme park. Bright colored lights flashed, breaking up the night, throwing hideous shadows on the ground. 

Even Spike looked strange with the colors playing across his determined face. He spared me a look, nodding. His dark hair was wet and lay flat on his head for once. He was soaked to the skin, having climbed out of the river that ran throughout the park minutes ago. We both looked ahead. There was no sign of Pierrot.

"Where is that bastard?" I hissed lowly.

Spike's lips pulled into a tight, wry grin. "Probably above us." He leaned against the low brick wall shielding us, breathing heavily. His jacket wasn't wet from water alone. I heard soft metallic clicks and looked over to find him counting his bullets. There were never enough. 

Smirking, I looked up, peering into a haze that suddenly darkened as a shape came closer. Spike saw too and stood up with a soft groan.  "Come out," he snarled, "I don't have time to play games!" He jumped out from behind the wall, and ran out to face our opponent head-on, firing off a round of shots as he went. Each bullet seemed to bounce off the man, not doing any harm. A growl of frustration ripped my throat, and I was surprised to find myself standing clear of the wall, shooting at Pierrot who had lifted his cane and was aiming at Spike. I saw Spike dodge, dropping into a roll and coming up behind a barrel. "Get down!" he screamed at me, but I barely heard over the gunshots, barely felt the jolts of recoil. 

Now the madman was aiming at me, sending a spray of bullets in my direction. I sprang backward for the protection of the wall. Felt a narrow miss whiz past my shoulder. Then I felt it. Something thudded painfully into my chest, knocked me back into a brick wall. An explosion burst in my chest. Felt something warm trickle down my front between my breasts. I heard ragged breathing, and realized it was mine, but couldn't take my eyes off Pierrot.

 He had stopped shooting, his lips peeled back in that distorted, sinister grin that was eternally plastered to his face. His laugh pierced the night again; he twirled around on his toes. He forgot about Spike and traipsed over to me. The closer he got the larger and more imposing he seemed. I leaned back, my gun hanging loosely at my side. I couldn't help but stare in horror at death pirouetting to my side. 

"Hello boys and girls…" His voice and breath were rank. He had to shout over the music that was steadily growing louder. I shrank back and he paused, the colored lights glinting maliciously in his narrowed, beady eyes. He changed his mind. He didn't want to play with me anymore. In one quick flourish, he brought his cane up. I stared into its dark, hallowed tip. "No!" I screamed but only a raspy croak came from my mouth. 

But then the cane fell away, clattered to the ground and the man's eyes widened. He shrieked and jumped up and down, clutching his leg. "It hurts! Mommy! It hurts!!!!" A knife handle stuck out of his calf, blood oozing down his leg as he hobbled away into the path of the on coming parade. 

I could see Spike across the way, standing near the barrel, dumbfounded by the man's reaction to the minor wound he had inflicted. Huge animated creatures marched down the mock street, playing their drums and pipes, ignorant of the diminutive man shrieking below them. A pink cat pranced into my view, eclipsing the man. When it had moved, the man was nothing more than a flattened pancake on the ground. It was over.. I crumpled to the ground and closed my eyes. 

Don't really know how long I stayed there, just breathing, too shocked to do anything else. Spike's voice reached me through a mist. I listened to my breathing and the slowing music of a carousel winding down. Silence was beginning to take over. Spike's face appeared above me; he reached down and pulled me to my feet. I grinned, in spite of the horrified expression on his face. Perhaps because of it.. 

Bringing my fingertips to my chest, I felt the cool tip of the bullet impeded in my flesh. Smearing blood around the wound, I looked up at Spike. My breaths came harder than before, and I couldn't understand why the air felt so moist in my lungs. 

"Spike.." I tried to say, but the sounds were raspy, wet. Coughs racked my body, bending me over and bringing blood to my lips. The breaths I took fluttered inside me, and something hot was filling the space where air should have been going. 

He caught me before I hit the ground. And despite his own wounds, managed to lift my weight. I couldn't understand his strength, but felt the comfort of it in his arms. With me cradled against his chest, he stumbled out of the broken gates, heading for the Swordfish II. Through the pain, I heard him mutter, "I hate theme parks."


End file.
